


(Un)Wrapped

by colepaldigirl



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colepaldigirl/pseuds/colepaldigirl
Summary: Jenna wakes up in a hotel bed with Peter and assumes the deed has been done.... She's a bit freaked out to start with, but Peter is looking very calm about it all for someone just wearing his boxers. Jenna decides to get to the bottom of things with surprising, or not so surprising results.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xXdreameaterXx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/gifts).



> From a prompt by Dreameater1988, hope this is what you were thinking of!
> 
> This is Real Person Fiction (please see my usual warning on my bio) If you don't like it or it makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. Its all very, very silly, completely fiction nonsense.

‘Urgh…’ Jenna fought to extract her arm from under the covers and brought it to her head. It was pounding, and her mouth tasted yukky, and her tummy felt wrong, sort of sick and flippy and…

She opened her eyes suddenly for two reasons simultaneously. The first was an increase in the sick feeling that required her to move, urgently, and the second;

The second was an arm, resting around her belly, gentle but in her current condition enough to make her insides lurch harder.

_Oh my god. There’s a man in the bed. And I need to puke._

What had she been doing? She never got this drunk. She was known for being sensible. She’d been to dozens of wrap parties and walked away after one glass, or driven herself away after none, so what was it about last nights’ do that…

_Oh… wait…_

The owner of the arm shifted behind her. Yup definitely a man, she could vouch for that. Man shaped. Pressing up against her back and…

‘Mmmph,’

And moaning, waking up, the arm stroked her belly and slowly withdrew easing the pressure on her insides, but at the same time she felt a pair of lips press to her shoulder, briefly, almost in a chaste way. The thing at her back was anything but chaste, however, it pressed harder against her for a second and then its owner rolled away with a contented sounding sigh.

Jenna’s stomach lurched again. She could see the door of the en suite from where she was. She could make it if she was quick, so she whipped the covers back, realising a second too late she was wearing nothing underneath.

_Shit!_

But her hangover had no respect for her state of dress, she had to go, right now.

So she ran for it, slamming the door behind her and dropping to her knees in front of the toilet. Oh god she felt ill. The sweat ran down her face and she knew when she stood back up that she would look pale and grey. She checked the mirror. Yep, both.

Jenna stood for a moment recovering and trying to stop the cough-retch cycle. She filled a glass with water and rinsed her mouth. She watched a little colour come back to her cheeks. She had no idea what was going on, so she suspected she’d have to piece it together.

It had been a wrap party she knew that much. For Doctor Who, even though she wasn’t in it anymore, she still went along, plenty of friends in the cast and crew to make for a good night. Clearly this time she had decided to drink, which was weird, but ok, not impossible. And she’d booked a room somewhere… well that made sense, the wraps were held in wales. So she was in a welsh hotel, hungover after a BBC wrap party and…

… and there was still a man in her bed. She didn’t remember that at all.

She glanced down at the vanity counter and spotted a slot machine three pack of condoms.

She choked slightly on her water and started coughing again. Oh god, she’d had sex. Who had she had sex with? She was in a relationship, she shouldn’t be having sex with anyone but…

‘Jenna? Are you ok in there? You sound a bit… ill.’

Oh my god. Jenna’s eyes widened as she looked at herself in the mirror, hungover, totally naked, a packet of condoms right there next to her and…

‘Jenna?’

… and Peter Capaldi in the room next door. Casually enquiring if she was ok.

She started hunting for something to cover herself and grabbed the nearest towel, which turned out to be enormous. She swaddled herself in it.

‘Fine!’ she squeaked, ‘I’m fine.’

‘Don’t need me to hold your hair?’ he sounded faintly amused.

‘No! I’m all done.’

‘Good,’ he replied, ‘Could we swap places then, I sort of need to…’

Jenna pulled the door open quickly and looked up at him where he was leaning against the doorframe. Oh no, he wasn’t wearing much. She was scared to look down, but she could sense it from the corner of her eye.

‘Sure,’ she said, her voice still squeaky and her entire body bundled up in white hotel towels. Peter looked at her curiously for a moment.

‘Sure you’re ok?’ he asked.

Jenna nodded, edging past him, aware of his puzzled glance as he disappeared into the bathroom. She took a quick glance and noted he was wearing close fitting black boxers…. And nothing else. The door closed again.

_Shit, shit, shit…._

Jenna ransacked the room for clue, evidence and clothes.

She’d been wearing a pretty, multi-coloured chiffony number by a designer whose name she forgot in the panic. Where the hell was it? She bent and looked under the bed. No dress. Well not to worry her suitcase was in the corner of the room she still had some clothes. She straightened up. Where were his though? She started rummaging under the duvet, the pillows. Ah-ha T-shirt, stuff down the back of the headboard. She looked down the side of the mattress hoping to find trousers or socks and instead found her own knickers. Black lace. OK good, she liked those ones, and they… she stared at them.

They were torn.

_Oh my God._

The bathroom door opened and Peter strolled out, still in just his boxers, quite the thing. She stood still and gawped for a minute while he lifted his watch from the dresser and strapped it on, apparently in no hurry to get dressed. In no hurry to cover up. Because she’d seen it all last night and he was quite relaxed.

Well she wasn’t relaxed, they’d had sex, they were friends and now they’d had sex. She felt the panic welling up inside her. Why wasn’t he panicking? What was wrong with him? Why was he just…?

He lifted his trousers from the chair tucked under the dresser and stepped into them, slowly doing up the buckle of his belt and zipping his fly. He paused and eyeballed her again.

‘Jenna, you look a bit… stricken?’

‘Mmm.’

He approached her and held her by the shoulders in her bundle of towels.

‘Are you sure you’re ok, I mean you really put it away last night?’

‘I did?’

‘You did.’

‘And um… why was I doing that… exactly?’ she asked.

‘Oh dear,’ Peter said and sat on the bed. He took his socks from his trouser pockets and put them on. ‘You really don’t remember do you?’

‘Not much no…’

‘You and Tom? Massive fight?’

‘Oh.’

‘You kicked him out your house?’

Jenna’s heart sank, ‘Oh… and then I came here and got plastered.’

‘Pretty much. Have you seen my…?’

She handed his t-shirt to him without a word.

‘Thanks,’ Peter said. Jenna sat next to him. ‘Aren’t you a bit hot in there?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Well unwrap yourself,’ he advised.

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why not,’ she hissed at him. He looked back at her innocently. ‘Peter I can’t believe you’re just sitting there calmly getting dressed like nothing’s happened.

‘Nothing has happened, you just got a bit drunk and needed a bit of TLC.’

‘TLC?’ Jenna’s voice went up an octave, ‘Is that what you call it?’

‘What? Paracetamol and a glass of water is TLC in my book.’

‘Peter for God’s sake!’

‘For God’s sake what?’ he said, his cool cracking.

‘This!’ she gestured at the towels.

Peter made a desperate motion of not understanding with a shrug of his shoulders and a gesture with both hands. ‘What are you on about?’

‘The s _ex_!’ Jenna squealed. ‘The sex, which we had, and you’re not bothered about. I had a fight with my boyfriend, and got drunk and now it seems you brought me back here and shagged me!’

Peter stared at her horrified. ‘What?’

‘Well?’

For a second he just gawped at her. ‘Do you really think I’d do that?’ he asked, ‘Do you think I would ever, ever take advantage of you?’

Jenna gawped back, ‘But you must have. I’m naked under here!’

‘I had to take your dress off, its designer and you were throwing up by then.’

‘Yeah right, I suppose you had to take my knickers off too.’

‘No,’ he sighed, ‘You did that…’

‘What?’

‘Walking back from the pub…’ he rolled his eyes, ‘Please don’t make me tell you, you’ll be so embarrassed.’

‘No, tell me, tell me what story you’ve concocted…’

‘I haven’t concocted a story. I was just trying to get you home in one piece.’

‘And without my knickers.’

‘You…’ he looked deeply uncomfortable, ‘You needed to go to the loo on the way back, said you absolutely couldn’t hold on and went behind a pair of wheelie bins.’

Jenna swallowed. ‘Oh… and’

‘And while you were staggering about back there trying to have a pee you fell over yourself and ripped them trying to pull them down. Now will you please stop accusing me of shagging you and sse what I was actually trying to do, which was protect your dignity.’

Silence.

‘We didn’t…?’ Jenna checked.

‘No!’

They sat in silence. Then it hit her.

‘What about the condoms!? There are condoms in the bathroom.’

‘They’re mine.’

‘Why do you need condoms, you’re fifty eight and married?’

‘I do still have sex, Jenna.’

‘But condoms…’

He looked away. ‘It doesn’t matter, can we move on? I didn’t molest you, you’re fine, just hungover. And I should really be going.’ He got up and started gathering his things. Jenna unwound part of her towel outfit. It really was a bit warm.

‘I um…’ she started and he looked at her. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you’d take advantage of me.’ Peter clucked and looked very deliberately away from her.

‘You’re a very beautiful woman, Jenna, but I wouldn’t touch you when you were so… indisposed.’

Jenna frowned and watched him locate his jacket. ‘You wouldn’t touch me while I was indisposed...’ she repeated back to him.

‘No,’ he confirmed.

‘So you’d touch me if I was in my right mind, sober, straight as a die?’

She saw his cheeks flush in the mirror of the dresser.

‘Peter?’

‘Well.. um… obviously our friendship…. I wouldn’t want to…’ he trailed off tripping over his words a little. Jenna remembered the kiss on her shoulder she had thought was so chaste. That and the hard shape which had pressed against her backside.

‘You… do you think of me… that way?’ she asked, curious. She couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth and decided she must still be tipsy to even ask. Peter was her friend, one of her closest friends. She knew in a scientific kind of way that he was handsome and charming but she’d never really looked further.

Well not until he had stood in front of her in nothing but his boxers.

He was still furiously blushing in front to the mirror, head bowed, looking like he wanted the earth to swallow him.

‘Peter?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

She hopped off the bed and approached him, tiny in her bare feet.

‘Since when?’ she asked gazing up at him. He dragged his gaze to hers.

‘Since… a long time…’ he shrugged.

‘Why didn’t you say?’

‘Lots of reasons,’ he looked away again, his blush spreading down his neck and positively burning his skin. He’d broken out in a slight sweat and he was running his thumbnail back and forth across the dresser surface, fidgeting, completely unable to tolerate her gaze. Jenna stepped a little closer, convinced now she was still drunk. This was interesting, really interesting. She’d never thought he desired her in that way too, that he ever….

She gasped, ‘Do you think about me?’ she asked suddenly.

‘What?’

‘You know do you _think_ about me?’

‘I just said I did,’ he relied confused.

‘No,’ she emphasised, ‘I mean when you’re…. turned on?’ she thought again of him curled against her that morning. Peter turned a deeper shade of crimson.

‘Please stop it,’ he said.

‘You do!’

‘I’m only human, Jenna…’ he covered his eyes with one hand and made a strangled and tormented sound. Jenna grinned a little wickedly. The idea of him aroused and thinking about her had her… well… aroused and thinking about _him._ She felt even hotter under her towel.

‘You look rather sweet when you’re embarrassed,’ she said. ‘So… you brought me back here for my own protection and stripped my dress off.’

‘Yes but I wasn’t doing anything… you know….’

‘Wrong?’

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘I went to leave and you weren’t settling and I was worried you might be sick, or choke or something.’

‘So you stayed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Seems _sensible_ ,’ Jenna said, consciously letting her towels drop a little so they wrapped just around her breasts. She watched with interest as Peter’s eyes followed and then forced themselves back up to her face. ‘And you were sober?’

‘Yes, totally,’ he said. ‘Jenna you can still trust me, I’ve felt like this for ages and I’ve never made a move or tried anything on, not until last…’ he stopped. ‘I mean despite how I’ve felt I haven’t…’ but he’d been caught.

‘You did try it on!’ she said shocked.

‘Not when I was getting you back home. You were out of it, it would have been wrong of me.’

‘When then?’ Jenna asked.

‘Earlier, you were dancing, dragged me up there. I said I hated dancing and you said if I stayed up there for five minutes you’d…’

‘I’d what?’ Jenna asked, fascinated.

‘Take me out the back and…’ he hesitated, ‘’Make out’ with me.’ He squirmed at the Americanism.

‘I’m fun when I’m drinking!’ Jenna said, shocked. ‘And you… you were sober! You should have said no!’

Peter resumed his miserable and awkward picking at the dresser.

‘So did you make five minutes?’ she probed.

‘Yes.’

‘And did we make out?’

‘Yes…’ he smiled.

‘Did we do anything else?’ Jenna asked agog.

‘No,’ he said firmly.

‘But you had condoms?’

‘I… I just… better safe than sorry?’ he said sheepishly.

Jenna considered and watched him squirm a little longer.

‘I’m sorry I got so drunk,’ she said, ‘Thanks for looking after me. Even if you did take up my offer of a snog.’

‘I shouldn’t have kissed you,’ Peter said beginning his ritual self-flagellation.

Jenna watched him look increasingly miserable. If there was one thing he did well with his Irish Italian catholic background it was guilt.

‘Would you do it again?’ she asked curiously.

Peter looked at her nervously, chewing his lip. ‘Probably. One kiss from you will fuel my fantasies for a good long while. I’m a bit weak willed around you, Jenna…I..’

She dropped the towel. She wasn’t entirely sure why she did but it seemed a good idea. Just like that, she wanted to know what he’d do really. Peter’s jaw dropped and then his eyes dropped too, first to her breasts before wending their way lower. He was already blushing, he couldn’t blush harder, but as she waited she saw him shift uncomfortably in his clothes, perspiration on his forehead.

‘When I woke up,’ Jenna said, ‘I was terrified we’d done it. I mean what would that do to our friendship?’

‘Um… ruin it?’ he said trying hard to look away from her naked midriff and below… and above.

‘Not necessarily,’ she said, ‘I mean you’ve sort of surprised me, I never knew you even had those thoughts or saw me like that. And well, I always knew you were charming, handsome… but here’s more isn’t there? Between us? Always has been. We’re both just too moral and sensible and repressed to admit it or do anything about it.’ She realised what she was saying was true, that it was all coming from somewhere hidden that she’d been ignoring. There was notjhing she wanted to do more right now than…

Jenna approached him and laid her hands on his chest; slid them up and around his neck, pressing her body against his.

‘Well it’s probably best to be moral,’ Peter said, straining away from her slightly. Jenna gauged his pupils, big dark and wanting; and the shape in his trousers, which had returned with double the enthusiasm of earlier.

‘Is it?’ she asked sounding disappointed, ‘I was hoping just this once….’

‘Just… this once?’ Peter said somewhat squeakily.

‘Just this once… ‘ Jenna inched closer to his lips and felt him bend slightly to her. ‘Go and get the condoms,’ she whispered and watched his eyes widen.

He didn’t move. He was petrified. Literally.

‘Well go on!’

‘You’re… you’re sure?’ he asked half turned to the bathroom.

Jenna jumped backwards onto the bed and lay naked and enticing on top of the covers. Suddenly her hangover felt better. ‘Let’s do something that will feed your fantasies even longer,’ she winked. ‘And mine of course.’

Peter fled to the bathroom but returned in seconds, throwing the condoms to her to catch and removing his T-shirt as he followed her onto the bed. In a moment he had pressed her down into the mattress and closed his mouth over hers, his tongue searching between her lips, deep, insistent. Jenna felt a shot of desire pass through her as his skin touched hers, on her breasts, her abdomen. She could feel him lifting himself to get to his belt so she quickly dived for it herself so he could continue to prop himself up as it came away.

All of his hard work relocating his clothes and dressing was undone in minutes and finally Jenna came to the black boxers she had noted before. Her fingers latched into the waistband and she broke their kiss to gaze up at him, giggling as her hands smoothed over his buttocks and made him jerk slightly towards her.

‘You definitely kept these on all night?’ she teased.

‘Definitely.’

‘You weren’t tempted?’

‘Oh I was tempted,’ he confessed, ‘But a, immoral and b, you would have killed me.’

‘Yes I would have. Not only is it wrong but I wouldn’t be able to remember any of it.’ She watched him pant a little puff of air as her hand wrapped around his cock. There was a look of bliss on his face. Oh he was really into this, how had she never noticed, had he always managed to hide any desire for her, was she that blind. She squeezed and again he jerked into her, this time pushing into her hand. Jenna pumped him lightly until he was almost crazy with need, frowning, twisting in her grip to increase the friction.

‘Please… tighter,’ he said desperately. Wow, this was a whole different side of her friend and it was affecting her in new and powerful ways. Jenna bit her lip and raised her thighs around him, continuing her light touch but guiding him towards her. Then she switched hands and took one of his, placed it where she needed to be touched. Peter moaned close to her ear, slid his fingers against her where she was slippery.

All of this desire, just spilling over from nowhere. Escalating so quickly, Jenna was certain she was losing her grip on it. She felt as though her body was lifting off the bed, that somehow there was only her and him and as she felt him enter her, their joined bodies. It must have been there before, hidden, inappropriate, and the idea of it raised by this morning’s amnesia and mistaken assumption had been enough to trigger it in both of them. A short conversation and they were falling into bed with each other.

She could hear Peter straining to hold back for her, short pants close to her ear, his eyes tight shut, but his hand still worked on her in time to their thrusts and she knew she would catch him in time. Just like everything else it escalated so fast it took her breath away and for a moment there was only sensation tearing from the centre of her, hot and powerful, clenching around him as he stiffened and came apart above her.

 

His T-shirt appeared to be down the side of the mattress again, so she fished it out lest it get lost and dropped it onto his bare belly as he lay recovering, sweaty, beside her.

‘Thanks,’ he said absently.

‘That was incredible,’ Jenna said, rolling onto her stomach so she could look at him.

‘It was… unexpected…’ he confessed.

‘Do you think it’ll happen again?’ she asked carefully.

Peter glanced at her, ‘Well… it’s all a bit difficult isn’t it? You have your boyfriend… if you let him back into the house. I’m married and will burn in hell for doing this and really shouldn’t repeat it. And well the whole thing seemed to be fuelled by alcohol and lack of clothing.’

‘Lack of clothing?’ Jenna asked giggling.

‘Well you were lying there naked all night, all alluring… and then you wrap yourself up in plushy towels like some sort of sweet marshmallowy gift to unwrap…. I’ve only so much will power.’

Jenna smirked. ‘Marshmallowy?’

‘You know, fluffy… never mind… I don’t know… it depends on how we feel today, and circumstances and so on… we should talk, be sensible, be as objective as we can…’ he closed his eyes sleepily.

Jenna nodded, thoughtful, mature. ‘Peter?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Do you want to come to the wrap party for _Victoria_ next week?’

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
